


darling so it goes, some things are meant to be

by thehaakun



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/F, mermaid!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-04-18 04:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehaakun/pseuds/thehaakun
Summary: Corrin blushes when Azura’s dazzling smile takes her breath away.She’s beautiful.And, like all artists and their muses, a piece of her heart stays with Azura when she goes to leave that day.---[F!Azurrin] Corrin and her family take a trip up to their summer vacation home by the lake near the mountains, and meets the unexpected.(Mermaid!AU idea by Ticcytx (I just wrote her AU out...It's an amazing AU)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! this work has been a WIP for _weeks_ I'm so glad I finished it because this is a gift for Ticcytx (who draws very gOOD AZURRIN I CRY AT ALL THEIR ART) who told me all about their mermaid!au so I thought I'd try and write it out for them as a gift since I'm very grateful for all their azurrin art, goodness ;-; !! 
> 
> i'm so glad i finished this...thank god...i'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TICCY lol
> 
> CONCEPT: Mermaid!Azura is a very good azura and i love it lol

Corrin rolls the window down, and feels the warm summer wind blow freely into her hair.

Leo, next to her, gives a grumble as the pages of his book go flapping in the air, while Elise eagerly unbuckles her seat belt and leans over him, mouth agape in awe as the countryside zooms on by, vast fields and rolling hills and green forests.

“ _ Wow _ , look! Horses!” Elise cries out, climbing a little bit more over her brother to stick her head out the window; Leo plants two hands on his little sister and forcibly makes her sit back down. 

“ _ Elise! _ Sit down like a proper person,” Leo says, and he shoots Corrin a grumpy look. “What’d you roll the window down for? I’m trying to read.”

Corrin leans her elbow on the windowsill, only smiling in response. “You have your head in books all the time at home. Take a chance and look at the world around you, for once.”

“I can admire the world on the internet,” Leo says, and he sticks his nose back in the pages of his novel.

Elise pouts and sticks her tongue out at Leo. “Then don’t get in the way of  _ me _ admiring the world.” She rolls down her side of the passenger window, and now wind blows in from both sides in the back seat, and the pages of Leo’s book whip back and forth.

“Damn both of you,” Leo grumbles, and he puts his book down to cross his arms and look out Elise’s window.

In the front passenger seat, Camilla laughs. “Oh, Leo, you never change, dear.”

Xander, in the driver’s seat, glances at them in the rearview mirror. “Get along, you three. We’re almost there.”

They were headed toward their lakehouse up in the northern reaches of the country, settled on the outskirts of a small fishing town. Corrin had looked forward to this trip for months; it’d be one entire summer with her entire family, on both sides. Ryoma and the others had taken another car up earlier that week to help set up and prepare, and Corrin taps her foot, eager to get out of the cramped space of the car and stretch her legs down by the lake.

Within an hour, Xander pulls up to the front of the lakehouse, a large wooden home large enough for the both of the families; supposedly, Garon had scoffed at anything smaller, only settling for the biggest and the best lakehouse up in the scenic northern reaches of the country.

Their party gets out of the car to greet the others; Elise happily grabs Sakura’s hand and drags her into the house, saying something about building pillow forts in their rooms. Takumi and Leo greet each other, books in their hands, and then immediately separate themselves from the others by heading for a quiet place to read on the back porch facing the lake. Hinoka greets Camilla with a kiss on the cheek, smiling as Camilla gives her a kiss on the lips in return, and the two hold hands as they bid farewell to have a stroll out to the town nearby. Ryoma and Xander clasp forearms, giving each other stately nods before embracing and laughing, arms around each other’s shoulders as they head inside.

Which left Corrin to toss her things in her own room before heading out on her own to the lake.

As she walks down the beaten dirt path, she stuffs her hands in the pockets of her shorts, feeling the summer breeze ruffle her t-shirt. Dinner wouldn’t be for some time, so she could explore a little.

The shoreline around the lake is mostly cold, coarse dirt, not like the summer sand near the ocean back at Ryoma’s home. She digs the toe of her shoe into the dirt, making a small indent, before looking up at the world before her.

The lake extends far, and she can just barely make out the shore on the opposite end; off farther in the distance is a mountain range, like crests on a dragon’s back, speckled with white at the tips. Around the rest of the lake is numerous trees, pines and firs a healthy deep green in the summer air, the forest occasionally punctuated by other lake houses nestled along the shores.

This would be her home for the next few months.

She gets a text on her phone from Ryoma, telling her to come back so they can head into town together and get dinner there.

She takes one last look at the lake, its waters deep, blue, and unfathomable, and returns home.

\---

Their dinner is a boisterous one, with such a large party and so many unique personalities, but it makes for an exciting first day as her older siblings make connections with some of the townfolk, while the younger make their way down the main street, exploring souvenir shops and the like.

She escorts her younger siblings from afar, making sure they don’t make too much of a ruckus, and that Elise doesn’t incite a fistfight with Takumi and Leo with her jabs and teases.

They hang around an old fisherman sitting outside a small market, where Elise and Sakura stand enraptured by the old man’s story.

“Y’all kids better be careful at night, ya hear? Especially down at the lake,” he says ominously, and Elise clings onto Sakura’s arm as Takumi and Leo roll their eyes. “The sirens of the lake love to snatch kids from the shores and drag them into the waters, never to be seen again.”

Leo huffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sure, and dragons are real.”

The old fisherman only laughs, unperturbed. “You say that kid, but me own great-grandfather saw a real mermaid himself, and almost caught her. They’re real alright, son.”

“ _ Really? _ A real mermaid?” Elise asks, eyes as wide as saucers. 

“Mhm,” the fisherman nods. “Known to be the demons of the deep, they love to gobble little girls like you right up, and unbelieving, careless boys like your brother here.” He winks and laughs at Leo’s chagrin, who bristles at the comment.

“See, Leo? They’re gonna eat you for being a party pooper,” Elise says.

“Not if they eat  _ you _ first,” Leo says, and Elise lets go of Sakura’s arm and immediately throws up a pair of fists.

“They won’t get me because I’ll beat them up,” Elise says, and then she turns expectantly to Sakura, who hesitantly puts up her own fists. “Me and Sakura can take on all the demons.”

“Yeah, sure, you can take them on like you took on that spider we found in your room earlier,” Takumi says, rolling his eyes. “You screamed like you were gonna die.”

“I  _ was _ gonna die, you pineapple-head--”

Corrin moves to intervene before they actually start making a scene, and the old fisherman shoots her a grin and nod in thanks.

\---

The next day, Corrin opts for a morning walk around the lake, and Camilla hands her a light backpack to take with her.

“Water, and in case a bear comes to attack you, there’s a switchblade in there,” she says, and Corrin raises her eyebrows. “Don’t worry, dear, it’s just a precaution,” she laughs. “Just call if it’s an emergency, and your big sisters will come and get you.”

Corrin packs in her notebook and pencils and then she sets off.

Though it’s summer, the sun’s heat hadn’t set in just yet, and Corrin breaths in the cool air, exhaling and letting herself enjoy the taste and feel of nature.

She makes her way around the lake, stopping every now and then to pick up a pebble or a rock and to toss it across the water’s surface, watching the ripples that fan out and the small  _ plop _ at the end as the rock sinks. Sometimes she pauses, pulls out her notebook, and sketches a quick drawing of the landscape, or she takes out her phone to snap a photo of the tiny tadpoles and fish that flicker near the shores.

This place is wonderful, she thinks as she gazes out at the lake’s waters, the faint breeze brushing the surface, causing ripples and waves. She finds it hard to believe the old man’s tales of sinister monsters of the deep lurking just beneath the surface of the lake, and she chuckles to herself. 

She continues her walk around the lake, hands in her pockets, whistling a random tune, when she finds it.

An old, rundown cruiser boat sits beached on the shore, and the moss and plant life growing around its hull tells Corrin that it’d been abandoned there for some time. Curious, Corrin takes a few steps down its length, admiring the wealth of history that shown in the ship’s dilapidated state; she leans over into the passenger area of the boat, and she spots rusty harpoons and worn black nets resting inside.

Though most of the cruiser lies on the shore, she notices the stern of the ship resting in the lake. 

She squints, though, when she sees a great number of ripples, and even splashes, at the stern.

Corrin steps closer, and she strains to listen; what she hears is the small cries of a frantic and panicked girl.

Adrenaline shooting through her, Corrin hurls herself onto the boat, almost slipping on the nets, and she dashes to the stern as fast as she can; when she peeks over the edge, to where the propeller is, what she sees makes her heart stop.

A girl, bare-shouldered and close to her age with long blue hair, struggling to get free from the tangled knots and webs of a large net; then, their eyes meet.

Her eyes are gold, is all Corrin thinks, before the girl’s face becomes consumed with fear and panic, and she fights even harder against the ropes that surround her, trying to pull herself back into the water.

“ _ Wait!  _ Hey, hey!” Corrin says, and the girl only seems to become more agitated as Corrin leans over the edge of the boat to get a better look; she sees the net’s caught in the propeller, twisted and tangled underwater. Corrin frantically wrings her hands, trying to figure out what to do, but the girl offers no assistance as she only struggles even more against her bonds.

“Hey, hey, stop, stop moving, I’ll get you out!” Corrin says, but the girl thrashes, her knuckles white as she grips the net in her fists, trying to pull it apart. 

“Okay, okay, look, stop,  _ stop moving _ , you’ll drown!” Corrin says, but when the girl makes no response to her, only making more frightened cries of fear and terror, Corrin throws her pack on the floor of the boat and frantically rummages around in it; she finds the switchblade and thanks god. 

Even if the girl doesn’t understand her, she could at least do what she could to get the girl out of her bonds, and her heart pounds a mile a minute in her chest.

“Look, I’ll cut you loose,” Corrin says, straightening up to peer over the stern.

If the girl was frightened before, when she sees Corrin with the small knife in her hand, she strains even harder against the net, trying to push herself as far away as she can from the stern -- but the net remains entrapped around her.

Corrin takes advantage; the net’s stretched taut between the boat and the girl, and she gets to work frantically cutting her end of the net apart, hacking through the nylon strings as fast as she can.

What she isn’t expecting, as she cuts the last thread and the net falls apart, is seeing the girl  _ dive _ into the water, throwing away the remaining pieces of the net aside -- Corrin leans as much as she can over the stern, staring, mouth agape.

When the girl had dove into the water, disappearing into the blue depths of the lake, Corrin could have sworn, in that instant, that she’d seen a mermaid tail.

A mermaid.

Corrin stands there for a bit longer, just staring at the water, the tiny little knife in her hand clattering to the floor of the ship as she tries to process what she’d just seen.

A real mermaid.

That had to be. She had to be a mermaid. She  _ has _ to be a mermaid. 

There was no way that brief flash of blue scales she’d seen in the girl’s wake could’ve been anything else, that unmistakable look of a pair of translucent  _ fins _ .

\---

When she sprints back home and barges in through the backdoor, making Camilla, Ryoma, and Xander jump in their seats in the living room, no one believes her.

Elise, of course, believes her, but it’s Elise and no one really believes a thirteen year old anyway.

She swears up and down and to god that she’d seen a real mermaid, that the damn old man in the village had been right, but everyone just shakes their head in amusement, telling her she’d been reading too much or maybe she’d eaten a weird mushroom on the ground along the way.

So she runs into the town nearby, finds the old fisherman at his post outside the small market, and tells him. The old man looks at her, incredulous.

“You know those were just stories, right? There’s not actually mermaids.”

Corrin stands there, baffled. “Then what about you saying your great grandpa or whatever saw one?!”

“Yeah, they existed back then, but no one’s seen ‘em since. They were hunted to extinction,” the old man says, shrugging and then patting her on the shoulder. “Seems like you partied too hard, kid. Get some rest and sleep.”

Corrin goes to bed that night, adamantly refusing to believe that what she’d seen had been fake. This wasn’t some Loch Ness Monster bullshit, Corrin had seen that mermaid tail with her own  _ two damn eyes. _

She had to find her again. She had to find some way to see the mermaid again.

\---

When she gets up again the next morning, filling up her pack with snacks and water to make another trek around the lake, she finds Takumi and Leo already out on the back porch, books in hand.

“You look like you’re in a hurry,” Leo says, eyebrows raised over the pages of his novel.

“I’m--”

“She’s going to look for her mermaid,” Takumi says, rolling his eyes. “Aren’t you, sister?”

Corrin scowls at him. “She was real, even if you guys don’t believe it.”

“Oh, I’m sure she is,” Leo says, and Corrin turns to him in surprise -- her hopes are dashed a moment later though, when he continues, “I’m sure you can sing a song like in those Disney movies and all the frogs and fishes will appear and your mermaid princess will majestically appear out of the lake on a rock.”

Takumi bursts out laughing, and Corrin picks up an acorn on the ground and throws it at Leo’s head in response before turning her back on the guffawing duo, shouldering her backpack and determinedly making her way down to the lake’s shoreline.

She had to find the mermaid. Somehow, someway. She had to.

\---

Weeks pass, with Corrin doing mostly the same thing everyday.

She’d awaken, pack her notebook, her phone, her pencils, water, snacks and that handy switchblade before making her trip around the lake, eyes almost glued to the water’s surface. She stopped by the old, rusty cruiser, a few times, still beached on the sand, but a thorough inspection of the boat revealed little. All she’d found were the cut pieces of the net, but no other signs of proof that the mermaid had been there.

In all those weeks, Corrin made laps around the entire shoreline, her brisk walk around and attentiveness keeping her awake during the long hours she spent walking alone, searching. Occasionally she’d pause and sit down with her back to a tree and sketch the world around her; at least the scenery was nice to look at, and her phone provided an endless amount of music for her to listen to as she whistled along to a few tunes as the sun rose and set through the sky each day. Other days, she’d only make it around a quarter of the lake before sitting down by the shore and reading books of her own.

Some books she’d checked out from the town library nearby, about mermaids and sirens and fictional creatures of the deep, but all she found were old worn out tomes covered in dust that revealed little to her about the secretive mermaid she so wanted to see. They all repeated the same thing the old man had said; mermaids were beautiful women that had fish tails, that pulled unlucky men into the ocean and drowned them, ate them, whatever, yada yada.

Nothing interesting, Corrin sighs, putting the book in her backpack and resting her chin on her drawn up knees. She stares out at the water, before getting up to continue her trek around the lake.

One day, after those many weeks spent with no results, she heads down to the small dock just a little ways away from her house; out of sight of the main house, but still close enough that Corrin knew she could make it back to the house in a few minutes. It was a secluded, small area, hidden away by shrubs and trees and the like, a special place that Corrin liked to call her own.

She sits down at the end of the dock, dipping her feet into the water and sighing. The heat came on a lot faster now that they were midway through their summer vacation, and despite it only being early morning, she can feel the beads of sweat down the back of her neck.

Reaching into her pack next to her, Corrin pulls out her book about dragons and princesses when she spots a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye.

A shiver runs down her spine, despite the heat. There’s something different, about today.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and Corrin holds her breath as she slowly turns her head to look out at the water.

It’s only a split second. One damn second. 

She sees a pair of golden eyes looking straight at her, just fifty paces away.

Corrin blinks, and it’s over, she’s gone, and all she sees are the usual ripples and small crests of waves in the water. Corrin scrambles up onto her feet, staring as hard as she can out into the lake, her book all but forgotten next to her.

Her heart pounds loudly inside her chest, and she hears her own pulse inside her ears.

Shit. This wasn’t at all like the episode at the boat. One moment she was there, the next she wasn’t.

Corrin rubs her eyes, and then stares again at the water, her eyes straining to see  _ anything _ .

But there’s nothing, and Corrin feels disappointment sink into her stomach, and she clenches her fists. 

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and Corrin takes it out to see that Hinoka needs her help back at the house, to head into town and get groceries; she hurriedly grabs her backpack and makes her way back to the house, not noticing that her book sits forgotten, forlorn at the dock’s edge.

\---

The next morning, when she goes to do her usual routine of packing her things, she notices that her book is missing.

She looks around her room, opens the closet, pulls open drawers, dumps out her backpack, and still can’t find the book. She wracks her brain, trying to remember the last place she’d put it...She could’ve sworn she’d brought it with her yesterday on her last outing, but she brought it back...right?

“Hm,” Corrin says, pursing her lips, her hands on her hips as she stands in the middle of the living room. “Where…”

Camilla, in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in her hand, glances up at her over the pages of a magazine. “Darling, you probably left it out wherever you went when you did your usual trip around the lake. Pray it didn’t fall into water, it was brand new, wasn’t it?”

The dock.

Corrin doesn’t answer Camilla, and instead she runs out the backdoor and down to the dock; she spots her book sitting at the edge of the dock, and she places a hand over her heart in relief.

When she walks down to the dock, however, and reaches its end, she stares.

The paperback, once crisp and stiff, its pages new and clean -- now looked like it’d been dunked repeatedly into water, its cover and pages now rumpled and wrinkly and incredibly dirty.

When she bends down onto her haunches, what  _ really _ catches her eye, though, is the single, blue shell next to it.

Corrin stops breathing.

That shell had definitely not been there yesterday. She’d never collected a shell in her entire life.

But here is a shell. Next to her book. Her book, that looked like someone had... 

The dawning realization of what’s just occurred comes over Corrin, and she claps a hand to her mouth. 

The mermaid was real. The mermaid  _ is _ real. 

And now she has proof, and as Corrin eagerly, but carefully, picks up the blue shell in her hand, she feels a spark of hope in her chest, and an idea comes to her mind.

She runs back to the house, quickly tells Camilla she found her book, and then shuts herself in her room, tearing everything apart again as she tries to find something just as unique as the blue shell she’d found.

After an hour of turning her room upside down, Corrin claps a hand to her forehead as she realizes the obvious. Something unique…

She sits at her desk, slams her notebook down on its surface, whips out her pencil, and begins to draw.

\---

When Corrin wakes up the next morning, she jumps out of bed, gathers her things, and sprints down to the dock.

Her drawing from yesterday still sat at the end, weighted down by a rock, but when Corrin kneels down and peers closely at the paper, she sees the dried imprints of a wet hand that undoubtedly picked it up…

_ She saw it. She saw my drawing. _

It’d been a rushed sketch, but Corrin had drawn the dock and the lake around it, the mountains and trees fading in the distance.

She presses the drawing to her chest, holding her breath, her mind abuzz with a million ideas and thoughts. Then she stands up and rushes back to the house, a wide grin on her face.

\---

This continues for another two weeks. It’s a strange exchange system, because sometimes the mermaid leaves things behind, sometimes she doesn’t, and Corrin has to guess which things interest the mermaid the most from what she does and doesn’t leave on the dock.

And the mermaid only seems to come to dock at night; Corrin would leave her gift in the evening, and the next morning, it would either still be there or something else would have taken its place.

Corrin always makes sure to leave small things at the dock, of course. She can’t draw the attention of everyone else at home if large things start going missing.

One evening, she leaves behind a hairpin adorned with a small, white rose. When she comes back the next morning, she finds a small, white, pearly stone, translucent and shimmering with rainbows when Corrin admires it in the sun.

Another evening, she leaves behind a fork, because if Disney movies have taught her anything, maybe mermaids like forks. She comes back the next morning and the fork is still there, with a single plain rock, and Corrin shakes her head in amusement.

_ She has a sense of humor. Okay. _

And then another day, Corrin’s sitting on the edge of the dock, chewing on Starbursts and drawing when the thought comes to her mind -- what do mermaids eat? Stupidly curious as she is, she leaves behind a few Starbursts on the end of the dock when she leaves for the evening. When she comes back the next morning, all she feels is confusion when she sees a pile of...seaweed? Kelp? 

She’s not sure what to make of this, confusion clear across her face as she picks up a handful of the green plant, and she shakes her head, putting it back on the dock before settling into her usual spot to sit and draw for the day.

Another day, she leaves behind a drawing of the forest, and the next morning, she finds a piece of wood on the dock next to her drawing, the wood strangely smooth to the touch. She runs a finger across its surface, puzzled, but nonetheless understands the uniqueness of such a gift.

She manages to learn a few things, from those two weeks.

The mermaid likes her drawings. That much is clear. Corrin orders online a box of laminating sheets.

She also knows that the mermaid doesn’t like plain things that could be found anywhere; it has to be something unique, new. Corrin guesses that the mermaid seems...curious, about humans. Corrin thinks of the town nearby with its small pier, and wonders if the mermaid watches the townsfolk and villagers.

Probably not all the time, Corrin thinks, her feet dangling off the dock as she opens up the book on underwater creatures and places it in her lap. She idly flips through the pages, thinking of the old man in the village.

_ She’s probably just as weary of us as we are of her. If the hunters back in the day hunted all the mermaids... _

Biting the inside of her cheek, Corrin shivers, despite the heat of the sun. 

She can’t fuck this up. She has to get the mermaid to trust her. No one else could know...Corrin clenches her fist, trying not to imagine what would happen if word got out that a mermaid still existed in the lake.

So Corrin tells no one of her secret exchange with her underwater pen pal, and she prays for the day when she finally gets to meet her secret friend in person.

She’s lucky, then, when the mermaid gives her a chance.

\---

It takes her a bit, but Corrin manages to find another old dock a bit further away from the house, tucked away in a small inlet a fifteen minute walk away. As Corrin sits at the end of the dock, humming to herself as she adjusts her earbud, she pulls out her sketchbook and looks at the world around her.

Trees surround her on either side, hiding her away from the rest of the world, and above her stretches the endless blue sky. In front of her lies the water, and a little ways away, the inlet joins back with the main body of the lake. The ripples of the water are calmer here, almost at a standstill, and she sighs in contentment.

It’s quiet, peaceful, just the way she likes it. And the trees provide a bit of shade, too. Nice.

She sketches for a few minutes, outlining the trees, the inlet, the dock. She glances up on instinct, looks at the calm water, then she looks down to fix a few details, and then she looks back up and her breath catches in her throat.

She tries, really, really, hard not to blink, because she knows for sure she isn’t imagining the pair of golden eyes that stare back at her.

Her heart pounds loudly in her chest, and her fingers tremble around her pencil, but she doesn’t look away, and the golden eyes don’t either.

They look at each other, for another moment, before Corrin takes a leap of faith.

“H-hi.”

The mermaid blinks, but doesn’t move.

“I...I’m not going to hurt you,” Corrin says, and she slowly, ever so slowly, puts her notebook and pencil down next to her; the mermaid’s gaze follows the movement, then she looks back up at Corrin’s face, waiting.

Making sure to make her movements as slow and deliberate as possible, Corrin stands up, swallowing back the nervous excitement in her chest. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

The mermaid only stares in response, saying nothing, and though her golden eyes are bright, Corrin sees caution, too.

“I...Do you, uh, like my drawings?” Corrin asks, pointing at her open notebook; the mermaid glances at it, but then focuses back on Corrin.

_ Okay. She’s...not gonna talk? Or...can she not understand me?  _

An idea comes to her mind, and Corrin points at her bag. “I kept one of your gifts. I’m gonna take it out.”

She gestures again, at her bag, miming opening it, and the mermaid’s eyes narrow. Corrin’s heart beats faster, and she swallows, kneeling next to her bag.

The mermaid doesn’t move any further, but her gaze is intense, direct.

Corrin slowly reaches into her bag, not looking away from the mermaid for a second, and after a second of blindly rummaging around, she finds it, and she grips the round stone in her hand.

When she takes it out, the pearly stone in her hand glimmers in the few spots of sunlight that make it through the treetops, and the mermaid’s eyes widen in surprise, and she blinks.

Holding her breath, Corrin places the stone next to her notebook at the end of the dock, and she takes a few steps back, holding her hands up in front of her to show the mermaid her intent.

“You can have it back, if you want. I swear, I’m...I’m not gonna do anything.”

Silence is the only response she gets, but Corrin stares, wide-eyed, as the mermaid makes her way to the dock, ripples appearing behind her as she swims closer. Though her eyes are the only part of her above the surface, Corrin can just barely see the blue scales of her tail, the translucent fins on her back, the long, blue hair trailing behind her.

When the mermaid reaches the end of dock, Corrin entirely, completely, stops breathing, because it’s now that she gets to finally, truly, take a look at a mythical creature in all her beauty.

The mermaid rises, slightly, out of the water, up to her bare shoulders, her expression unreadable as she glances at Corin, and then at the stone at the end of the dock. She reaches a hand out of the water, delicately taking the round stone in her hand, turning it this way and that, the rainbow light within shimmering and glistening.

_ She’s...so pretty.  _

And Corrin understands then, how stupid men could be enchanted by sirens within seconds. And here she stood, a stupid girl, enraptured by the sight of the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.

Corrin swallows, waiting, watching.

Then the mermaid looks at her, and their gazes meet.

Gold to red, siren to human. 

The mermaid puts the stone back on the dock, and pushes it towards Corrin, glancing from the stone, and then back to Corrin.

_ Does...does she want me to have it? _

Corrin takes a tiny step forward; the mermaid doesn’t move, and Corrin has to make a physical effort to contain the excitement that makes her hands tremble.

Another step. The mermaid still doesn’t move, only watches.

The next step Corrin takes is a bit more confident, and she relaxes her shoulders--

And then the mermaid turns away in a smooth movement, disappearing into the water, and Corrin’s heart breaks in her chest; she sprints towards the end of the dock, falling to her knees, tightly gripping the edge with her hands, staring as hard as she can at the surface, trying to  _ see _ , but all there’s left to see is ripples in the water, the only sign that the mermaid had been there at all.

She stares, hard, for another moment, straining to catch  _ anything _ , a shadow, a movement, but she sees nothing, the deep blue water telling her nothing and revealing nothing.

Disappointment crashes over her again, and Corrin heaves a deep sigh--

And then, to her right, comes a large splash of water.

Sputtering and using her sleeve to wipe the water off her face, Corrin whips her head around in disbelief as she hears a musical laugh--

And there, to her right, the mermaid hovers, a hand over her mouth as she giggles, her bright golden eyes alight with humor.

Her voice...it takes Corrin’s breath away, and no damn song on her phone can possibly compare to the music she hears as the mermaid laughs again, and Corrin thinks she’s found a muse.

“H-hey! That’s not fair,” Corrin says, and she moves to lean over the dock to splash the mermaid herself, but then the mermaid disappears underneath the water again, a smirk on her beautiful face. 

Before Corrin knows it, a splash of water hits her from the left, and she turns again, only to hear that same, singsong laugh, and only to see the mermaid smiling at her.

_ She really does have a sense of humor. Okay then… _

“Alright, alright, okay, you win,” Corrin says, throwing her hands up in surrender and rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling too. “You win.”

She has to put up her backpack in front of her as a shield when the mermaid uses the end of her tail to send another playful splash her way, and as Corrin peers behind it, she says, “Hey! C’mon, you don’t have to tell me that you’re the queen of the lake, alright? I get it, I get it.”

The mermaid hums to her, a light and cheery note, as she swims lazily around the dock, and Corrin gets a better look at the mermaid in her entirety.

Though her long hair matches the color of the sky, the shimmering scales of her tail reminds Corrin more of the hues of the lake, a mixture of dark indigos and shades of cyan. Her fins, along her back and along her forearms, appear a translucent white.

But the mermaid keeps her distance, and that much Corrin understands.

“So...you don’t understand me, do you?”

The mermaid tilts her head, and says nothing.

“Alright...yeah, you don’t...understand me at all...Okay,” Corrin says, putting a finger on her chin, and then she laughs too, thinking at the absurdity of it all. Here she is, on her summer vacation, trying to find a way to talk to a living myth.

The mermaid hums back, and she swims a little closer, and her face softens as she looks up at Corrin.

Running a hand through her hair and exhaling a breath of amusement, Corrin says, “You know, this is just...so wild. You’re actually real, like a real mermaid.”

Though the mermaid looks puzzled, uncomprehending, she points at Corrin’s notebook.

“Oh, my drawings. You like them, right?” Corrin picks up her notebook, sitting down and right as she’s about to dip her bare feet into the water the thought flashes across her mind that the mermaid could drag her in, right then and there -- she jerks her feet back, pulling her knees up to her chest.

There’s always a semblance of truth in every old myth, and Corrin knows that even if she knew how to swim, the mermaid could drown her in seconds.

Her look of alarm makes the mermaid flinch, and Corrin hurries to recover. “Sorry! Sorry, you, you liked my drawings, here, I can show you!”

The mermaid appears hesitant and unsure, so Corrin thrusts the notebook out, trying to control the trembling of her hands, turning the page so it faces the mermaid.

After a moment of Corrin holding the notebook, the mermaid slowly swims over, gazing up at the sketch with wide eyes, bright with curiosity.

The mermaid’s response is a short, high hum and a nod, and Corrin takes that as a sign of satisfaction.  _ She liked this drawing… _

Corrin’s phone buzzes in her pocket, startling them both; the mermaid almost ducks entirely beneath the water again, only her eyes above the surface, and she watches as Corrin takes her phone out and reads the text.

“Oh...I gotta go back home, help with lunch and stuff,” Corrin says, putting her notebook in her backpack and looking at the mermaid again, and she bites her lip. She tosses the rest of her things into her backpack, but when she picks up the pearly stone, she looks at the mermaid again -- who nods, and points at her backpack.

_ She’s...letting me have it. _

As Corrin slowly stands up, the mermaid watches her movements, her golden eyes vivid against the blue around her.

“I...I have to go,” Corrin says, and she points at herself then at the direction of the house. “I’ll be back here tomorrow, though?” She points back at the dock, and waves a hand, hoping the mermaid understands. “I promise, I’ll be back.”

The mermaid only gazes at her for a long moment, before she nods, and Corrin doesn’t have the chance to say goodbye as the mermaid smoothly dips back underneath the water, and with the flicker of the fin at the end of her tail, the mermaid disappears again.

“Bye,” Corrin whispers, and yet again, she has no reply.

Corrin stands at the dock, on her own, for a minute. Then she grips the strap of her backpack, spares one last glance at the water, and makes her way back home.

She’d done it.

She’d found the mermaid.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Corrin gives a whoop and does a jump, throwing her fist into the air as she grins, and she doesn’t know that a ways away, the mermaid watches, an amused smile on her face.

\---

She almost doesn’t believe it, but the mermaid is there the next day, waiting for her, and Corrin has to stop herself from eagerly running down the dock to meet her.

And the mermaid is there the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and Corrin’s heart jumps in her chest everytime she sees the mermaid and sees her smile.

Over the next few weeks, Corrin and the mermaid manage to find a rough, but workable, way to communicate. They both use gestures, and Corrin draws out what she can’t explain as best she can.

Early on, though, Corrin tries to figure out the mermaid’s name -- if they even have names.

“I’m Corrin,” Corrin says emphatically, pointing to herself. “Corrin. Me. Corrin. I’m Corrin.”

She also comes to learn, over the weeks, that the mermaid doesn’t speak words -- not in the human way of language, but she  _ sings _ , in the language of sirens. Her voice only knows vowels and soft consonants, so when the mermaid pronounces Corrin’s name…

“Oh-in?” The mermaid asks, head tilted to the side.

“No, like  _ Cor-rin.” _

The mermaid makes a face. “Ouuuihhn,” she repeats, making Corrin’s name a note in a song.

“Cor. Cor. Then rin. Rin. Corrin. There’s a hard ‘R’ sound in there, you know, like, pirates.  _ Aarrr _ \--”

Corrin gets a splash in the face in response, so from then on, she’s ‘oh-in.’

_ At least she doesn’t call me Corn...Better than being a vegetable, I guess. _

Figuring out the mermaid’s name is a  _ lot _ harder. It takes them almost an entire morning before Corrin gets it right, because trying to play twenty questions with someone who can’t ask or answer is much harder than it looks.

The mermaid points at herself, then sings, “Auuuaaa.”

“That can mean a thousand things,” Corrin complains, propping her elbow on her knee, and her head in her hand. “Aqua?”

The mermaid shakes her head.

“Okay, maybe that’s too obvious.”

The mermaid repeats her name again, drawing out the ‘uuua’ as a longer note.

Corrin tosses a variety of names at her, and they have to play a game of ‘hot and cold’ for bit, with the mermaid shaking her head or nodding when Corrin comes closer to her real name.

It’s only an hour later, after many exasperated tries and several splashes, when she finally nails it.

“Azama? Azuma?”

The mermaid shakes her head.

“Azula?”

Another shake, but the mermaid puts up both her hands, holding them an inch apart.  _ Okay, closer. _

“Azura?”

Azura’s bright smile and cheerful laugh tells Corrin that she’s hit the nail on the head, and she gives a whoop and holler in joy.

The first few weeks, Azura keeps her distance, never coming too close, but Corrin does her best to make herself appear as trustworthy as possible. They still play their gift exchange, with Corrin leaving things at the end of the dock, where Azura would cautiously come close, examine Corrin’s gift, and then she would place her own present down for the day.

Cute bows, hairpins, and small accessories, exchanged for shells, stones, and strangely, kelp.

“I don’t understand why you keep giving me this,” Corrin says one day as she sits cross-legged at the end of the dock, making a face as she picks up a piece of kelp in between her fingers. “What do I do with this, exactly?”

Azura has a piece in her hand as well; she tears a bite out of it, chewing, and she points at the kelp in Corrin’s hand before looking up into Corrin’s face, waiting for Corrin to do the same.

“Ah...Uh, I think I’ll pass,” Corrin says, red-faced, putting the kelp down next to her, and Azura frowns, slightly hurt.

“I’m sorry! I just...Azura, I can’t...uh, eat this. I can eat, like...this stuff…”

She draws out some of the things she likes most, like a bag of Doritos, or Starbursts, and Azura hums and nods at each one, coming to a slow understanding as she finishes the strand of kelp in her hand.

Corrin almost draws a picture of a lobster before she catches herself.  _ Wait, does she eat fish? Is it fucked up if I tell her I eat fish? _

Her pencil pauses over the paper, a half-drawn lobster on its page, and then she’s startled when she sees a shadow next to her.

When Corrin turns, her breath catches in her throat when she sees Azura hauling herself up onto the dock next to her, and she sees, for the first time, the rest of Azura’s torso; her eyes widen when she sees that the scales lead up Azura’s chest, which conceal her modesty but nonetheless still leave her upper torso, collarbones and bare shoulders open to view.

Corrin remembers to very quickly avert her gaze, the tips of her ears burning, and she doesn’t know where to look when she feels Azura by her arm, looking over her shoulder and at her notebook.

“Oh-in,” Azura says.

“Y-yeah?” Corrin says, unnerved by Azura’s close proximity and embarrassed by her own thoughts. Azura had never before come this close before...Or even came out of the water past her shoulders.

Maybe Azura notices that she pulls in on herself, and Corrin sees, out of the corner of her eye, Azura pulling away slightly, expression hesitant and apologetic.

When Azura makes to go back into the water, Corrin turns around then, and blurts, “Azura! Wait.”

Azura pauses and looks at her, leaning away slightly, as if to give Corrin more space.

Swallowing back her nervousness, Corrin clears her throat and scoots a little closer, the two almost shoulder-to-shoulder, and she holds out her notebook again.

“Did...did you want to see me draw?” Corrin asks, gesturing with her pencil at her half-finished lobster sketch.

Azura gives a small, low hum, still uncertain.

Biting her lip, Corrin looks down at her paper, and then an idea pops into her head. She flips to another page as Azura watches attentively, and Corrin glances up at her friend, then back down at her paper.

It takes her a bit of time, and along the way, Azura realizes what she’s doing; Corrin hears a sharp intake of breath next to her when the sketch comes together, and when she’s finished, Corrin drops her pencil and flexes her hand.

“Do you like it? It’s you,” Corrin says, pointing at the paper, and then at Azura. In the best, shitty singsong voice she can do, Corrin sings, “Auuuaaa. You, Azura.”

Azura stares, speechless, and then she looks up at Corrin and she sings.

And then it’s Corrin’s turn to lose her train of thought, because the brief song that Azura gives her is full of a pure kind of joy and appreciation, and Corrin’s heart stutters in her chest.

“I-I-I’m, uh, glad you like it,” Corrin says breathlessly, and Azura points at the drawing again, nodding fervently, her face bright with eagerness.

“Y-you want me to draw more?” Corrin asks, picking her pencil back up again -- but then Azura points at the paper, then at herself, then at Corrin.

“Us?” Corrin mimics Azura’s movements, and Azura nods.

_ Oh...she wants me to draw...us. _

And Corrin does.

When she’s done, Corrin holds her breath as Azura leans in even closer, and their shoulders brush; as Azura stares, in awe, of the drawing, Corrin reaches into her backpack.

“Here, I can laminate this, and you can take it with you,” Corrin says, and she carefully tears out her drawing from the notebook, delicately placing it in between the plastic sheets.

Azura watches, curious and surprised, and blinks when Corrin hands her the laminated drawing.

“Yours,” Corrin says emphatically.

Azura shakes her head, pointing at the water, pushing the sheet back to Corrin; her expression turns perplexed when Corrin laughs, and then she gives a small shout of alarm as Corrin dunks the drawing into the water.

“Look, see? All good,” Corrin says, dry off the water on the plastic with her shirt and handing the laminated drawing to Azura.

Azura’s eyes widen in surprise, and she carefully takes the drawing in her hands, bringing it close to her face, as if she were inspecting the sealed plastic for proof that it wasn’t real. 

“It’s all sealed up, it’ll protect the drawing, you can bring it underwater with you.”

Of course, Azura understands none of this, and Corrin watches with amusement as Azura dips her artwork into the water, only to pull it out and see that it remains still in one piece. It takes Azura a moment to realize what she has, and when she does, Corrin’s heart does a little jump when she sees Azura tenderly pressing the drawing close to her chest, her golden eyes filled with gratefulness.

Azura sings a few notes, and Corrin hears her friend’s gratitude, and she sheepishly rubs the back of her neck.

“It’s...It’s nothing, I’m glad you like it.”

(The thought had come to her mind to laminate her drawings, because she’d thought briefly of doing the more traditional ‘carve into a piece of wood or a rock,’ but she gave up that idea pretty quickly when she realized her carving skills were a  _ lot _ more shittier than her pencil and paper skills.)

Azura opens her mouth to respond, but then a buzz in Corrin’s pocket draws their attention, and ends their time for the day. Azura slides back into the water, holding on tightly onto her gift, and when Corrin says goodbye, Azura gives her one last, small song in farewell.

\---

Corrin comes to learn, later on, that Azura’s curiosity for humans goes a far way.

There’s a day when Corrin arrives at their little dock a little earlier than usual, and she settles down at the end of the dock as always, listening to music on her phone and humming along to the beats in her off-tone, broken manner.

The few times she’d tried to sing back to Azura, Azura had laughed, shaking her head, and Corrin got the message well enough to protest and pout. It wasn’t  _ her _ fault she couldn’t sing like an angel, she’d told Azura, but nonetheless, her siren friend gave her an amused smile in response. At least Azura knew she’d tried.

She puts her backpack down behind her, then lies down, settling her head on top of her pack and holding her phone above her as she taps through a series of songs. When she finds one she likes, a soft and quiet melodic tune, she closes her eyes and sighs.

The shade makes for a welcome reprieve from the summer sun, and there’s a slight breeze off the lake that whispers over her, the nature around her calm and serene.

She doesn’t really know when begins to doze off, but she wakes when she feels a a pair of fingers, damp from water, touch the bare skin of her neck.

Adrenaline shoots through her, and her eyes fly open.

Azura hovers over her, her gold eyes suddenly wide with alarm when she sees Corrin awaken -- before Corrin can sit up, Azura immediately dives back into the water, the tip of her tail leaving behind a splash as Corrin’s heart pounds wildly in her chest.

Azura had never been that close before, let alone touch her.

_ Wait, wait, she’s leaving-- _

_ “Azura! Wait!” _

Wrenching her earphones out of her ears, Corrin kneels as close to the edge of the dock as she can, clutching her shirt, and praying.

“Azura! It’s alright!”

Azura, who seemingly made to dart back to the depths of the lake, pauses at the entrance of the inlet, only her eyes above the surface. There’s fear, hesitation, in her apologetic expression, but she looks at Corrin nonetheless.

“It’s okay,” Corrin repeats, and she gestures for Azura to come back. “I’m not mad, it’s ok!”

It takes a little bit of coaxing and reassuring, but Azura slowly makes her way back to the dock, watchful and careful.

When she comes close, Corrin understands now; when she glances at Azura’s neck, she spots the telltale thin slits of gills, almost hidden without the keen eye.  _ She was...trying to see...if...I have them… _

Corrin turns, grabs her backpack, and pulls out a hairband to tie her hair into a ponytail. Azura only watches, eyes a little wide in curiosity, and her gaze darts down to Corrin’s neck before back up to her face.

“You...Did you still want to see?” Corrin asks as she sits down, and Azura swims closer, only a foot away from the end of the dock.

Corrin taps her neck, and leans down -- she swallows, because sitting this close to the edge means if Azura truly wanted to, it wouldn’t be hard to pull her straight in -- and Azura hesitantly rises out of the water, up to her shoulders, and she reaches a hand out again to touch.

Corrin lets her, not moving, and she watches as Azura relaxes a little, her expression turning into wonder and curiosity as she presses two fingers at the base of Corrin’s throat.

It tickles, a little, and Corrin can’t help but let out a little laugh. “Yeah, I don’t have gills. I can’t breathe underwater.”

Azura hums in reply, giving her a tentative smile in thanks before she pulls away.

It’s one small bit of trust between them, but trust built nonetheless. 

Taking a leap of faith, Corrin extends her hand out towards Azura. “Here, I can help you onto the dock, and you can watch me draw again.” She gestures at the spot on the edge of the dock next to her, pointing at Azura, then beckons with her open hand again.

Azura seems to get the message, but she pauses for a moment, uncertainty crossing her features.

Corrin patiently holds her hand out, not moving.

Azura looks at her, and maybe she finds something in Corrin’s expression, for she swims forward, putting her hand in Corrin’s.

And Corrin helps her up, the two sitting next to each other, their arms brushing as Corrin draws on her notebook; what really gets Corrin’s heart to jump in her chest, though, is when it’s time for her to go, she feels Azura place her hand over her own.

Surprised, Corrin’s only response is to stare, stupidly, at Azura’s hand, and then up at Azura’s face -- her mermaid friend gives her a soft hum in farewell, before she slides off the dock and back into the water.

\---

The next few times they see each other, Azura’s caution fades, little by little, and when she arrives now, Corrin automatically reaches a hand out to help her up onto the dock.

There’s one day, when Azura settles into a sitting position next to Corrin and Corrin pulls the earbuds out of her ears, pausing the music on her phone, that Azura tugs at her sleeve.

“Yeah?”

Azura mimes pulling something out of her ears, pointing at the earbuds in Corrin’s hand.

“Oh, yeah, I listen to music. On my phone.”

Of course, Azura doesn’t understand any of that, and her brow furrows as she tilts her head.

Corrin points at Azura’s ear, and holds up and earbud. “You can listen with me, if you want.”

She puts one earbud in her own ear, and watches as Azura frowns, her fingers brushing Corrin’s as she takes the other earbud. Corrin scoots closer to her, leaning back on one hand, the other holding her phone, and her mouth drops a little when she sees Azura tuck her hair behind her ear -- or rather…?

The edges of Azura’s ear extend outward, like a miniature fin, and Corrin holds her breath as she watches Azura carefully hold the earbud near her ear.

Azura glances up at Corrin and gives a little hum, as if waiting for Corrin to begin.

“O-oh, yeah, the music,” Corrin says, blinking and looking back at her phone; she hurriedly scrolls through a series of playlists, and she’s thankful Azura can’t read because then she can’t see that Corrin taps on the playlist aptly named ‘Azura <3 <3.’ 

“Some pretty cool beats, I think you’ll like them,” Corrin says, and hits play on the first song.

She’s startled when Azura abruptly grabs hold of her sleeve, her friend’s eyes wide with surprise and wonder as she hears the music.

“I guess you can understand music better than me talking to you,” Corrin says, and her heart stutters a little when Azura leans in close, her head on Corrin’s shoulder, and then she nods her head along to the rhythm; when she begins to hum along to the beat, adding her own style onto the music, Corrin stares in awe.

She doesn’t know how long she stares, because she doesn’t even notice that the song ends -- she only knows that her heart flutters in her chest when Azura smiles, radiant and bright, joy in her expression.

Corrin’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“You’re amazing,” Corrin whispers without thinking.

Azura looks at her expectantly, pointing at her phone.

_ More music… _

They spend some time like that, Azura singing along to Corrin’s songs, picking up the melody and beat after a few moments -- she can’t make words, of course, but Corrin finds Azura’s voice and her song covers to be better than anything else she’s ever heard.

And she thinks the sight of Azura, smiling and happy, is more beautiful than any art she’s ever seen.

But she notices, after the end of one song, how Azura stops and grimaces, raising a hand to her throat, her fingers brushing against the slits of her gills; Corrin understands.

Pointing to the water, Corrin nods. “You have to go back in, right?”

Azura looks at her for a moment, before she dives back in, the fin at the end of her tail flicking her way, and Corrin feels relief when Azura surfaces, taking a reinvigorating deep breath. 

When she swims close, Corrin takes a second to admire Azura’s blue scales shining in the specks of sun that reach through the treetops; sometimes, it still doesn’t feel real that  _ Azura’s _ real.

Azura stares up at her, face slightly apologetic. Something flickers across her expression, and then she gestures for Corrin to join her.

“I can’t,” Corrin says, shaking her head. “I can’t swim, Azura.”

Frowning, her brow furrowed, Azura flicks the end of her tail at Corrin, and she looks slightly disappointed; that makes Corrin’s heart twinge a little, and she hastens to recover.

“I’m sorry, Azura.” Corrin says. “But don’t worry, we can still listen to songs--”

She unplugs the earphones from her phone, and then presses play, the small speaker on her phone playing a cheery pop beat. 

Azura considerably brightens then, and Corrin finds herself grinning too.

\---

The next few weeks, Corrin shows bits and pieces of her world to Azura; videos of cats on her phone, some pictures of her family, and she brings small snacks for Azura to try.

Of course, Azura doesn’t like any of it, aside from the dried seaweed, and Azura tries to convince Corrin to try kelp again -- which Corrin politely refuses, which gets her a splash in return.

Then there’s one day where Corrin spends most of the day drawing and sketching out cars, cities, the human world; Azura seems to find that to be very interesting, sitting next to her on the dock and humming eagerly and nodding when Corrin finishes another sketch. Corrin makes sure to laminate a few, too, so Azura can take them with her; Azura always seems to take those drawings personally to heart, always giving Corrin a little song in gratitude.

Corrin wishes she had more time and more stamina in her damn hand to draw more, but at least she knows there’s always the rest of the summer to spend time with Azura.

But of course, days end and she has to return home, and she knows the summer will end soon too -- Corrin sighs, trying not to think of when she’ll need to leave Azura for the final time.

“Alright, I gotta go back,” Corrin says, and she turns her head -- only to be caught off guard when Azura’s face is only inches away from her own, her eyes gazing intently into Corrin’s own.

Blinking once, Corrin doesn’t dare breathe.

“Oh-in,” Azura says, softly.

Not knowing what to say, Corrin holds still.

Then Azura leans in, gives Corrin a quick kiss on the cheek.

Before Corrin can process what just happened, Azura turns and smoothly dives back into the water.

Dazed and blown away, Corrin presses a hand to her cheek, a stupid grin on her face.

She walks back home with a spring in her step, and humming a cheerful, albeit off-key, tune.

\---

_ This is stupid. What if she doesn’t like flowers? _

Corrin stands at the florist’s stall in the small town nearby, admiring a myriad of flowers, a rainbow of color amongst the green stems and glass vases.

Corrin jumps when she hears Camilla whisper in her ear, “Looking for something, dear?”

“N-no,” Corrin says, cheeks pink. “I’m not looking for anything.”

“You’ve been looking at these flowers for the past twenty minutes, unable to decide,” Camilla says smoothly, twirling a strand of lavender hair around her finger. “Clearly, you’re getting flowers for someone. Who, then, little sister?”

Corrin feels a bead of sweat down the back of her neck, and not from the summer heat. “Uh, n-no one. I just. Like flowers. I want to draw them.”

“You want to draw flowers?” Camilla asks, an amused smile on her face. “For a certain someone, I presume.”

“It-it’s not for anyone! It’s for me!”

“You’re a terrible liar, dear,” Camilla laughs, patting her on the shoulder. “Well, I hope I get to meet your secret crush one day. And might I suggest these flowers for your special someone…”

As much as she trusts Camilla, Corrin doesn’t dare tell her about Azura; the more people who know about her, the more likely her siren friend might be discovered -- and she’d read enough tomes and books to know that the town had a history of hunting creatures of the deep.

But of course, Camilla knows best even when she doesn’t know everything, and Corrin ends up whistling a tune to herself when she makes her way to the dock the next day, flowers in hand.

Finding Azura swimming lazy circles around the inlet, Corrin grins when Azura sees her; her siren friend brightens up, singing a cheerful greeting as Corrin settles down at her usual place down at the end of the dock.

“Heeeyyy,” Corrin tries to sing back, and Azura covers her mouth with her hand, giggling and rolling her eyes. “At least I’m trying,” Corrin says, and then she holds the flowers out to Azura. “For you.” She points from the flowers, to Azura, and Azura blinks.

Azura’s hand brushes Corrin as she takes the flowers, a bouquet of forget-me-nots and white lilies and blue tulips; she holds them, briefly, eyes wide as she admires the sight of nature before her -- and of course, Corrin takes the time to take in the sight of Azura and all her beauty.

But then Azura hands the flowers back, and Corrin throws a confused look. “D-do you not like them?”

Azura seems to understand her expression, for she points at the flowers, and then at the water.

_ Oh...she knows what these are...She can’t bring them with her. _

Thinking for a second, Corrin makes the best of what she has then and there. She sets the flowers next to her and gets to work, with Azura swimming close and watching with curiosity.

It takes a bit of time, but Corrin gestures for Azura to come close; Azura does, and Corrin places the flower crown on the top of Azura’s head.

She laughs at Azura’s bemused look, then gestures for Azura to hold still; she pulls out her notebook and begins to draw, with Azura humming little notes now and then as she tries to look over Corrin’s shoulder -- but Corrin angles the notebook away each time, grinning and shaking her head.

“You’ll see, you’ll see! Just wait a second.”

When Corrin nods approvingly at her drawing, Azura takes her little flower crown off, admiring it in her hands; her delicate fingers touch gently at the petals, the blue and white complimenting her own scales and hair.

Corrin wishes her drawings were better, because nothing could truly capture the likeness of Azura’s softness, the tender way in which she touched the world around her. She truly was beauty incarnate, a living legend among mortals, an mythic angel among men. Albeit, one with no wings and no golden halo of holiness, but a tail and a voice that sung notes from heaven.

Some would say Corrin was exaggerating, but Corrin’s an artist, and hyperbole was but another brush she used to paint the world on her canvas.

Sighing and admitting that her piece would be as done as it would be, Corrin turns her notebook around so Azura can see.

And, like always, Azura stares, lips slightly parted in awe as she gazes at the portrait of herself. An idea seems to pop into her friend’s mind, for Corrin watches Azura come close, gesturing for Corrin to lean down -- and Corrin does, only to feel Azura placing the flower crown on her head, and she blushes when Azura’s dazzling smile takes her breath away.

_ She’s beautiful. _

And, like all artists and their muses, a piece of her heart stays with Azura when she goes to leave that day.

\---

But good things come to an end, as the summer does.

But Fate too, always has strange plans and machinations in place for two star-crossed lovers.

When Corrin sits down at the end of the dock, dipping her bare feet into the water, Azura hums her greeting, but Corrin doesn’t miss the mischievous smile on her face.

“What? Did you bring something stupid, again?” Corrin will never forget when Azura had brought her a large shell; which she’d opened to find another shell, and then another, and so forth until she got to the innermost layer and it was just a single damn rock. Azura had laughed for an entire minute at Corrin’s grumpy expression.

Azura waves at her, gesturing for her to lean down, Corrin does, eyebrow raised as she waited for Azura’s next command.

Azura never ceases to surprise, is one thing Corrin’s come to learn.

Her siren friend mimics covering her eyes, then points at Corrin. 

“Oh? You want...Oh, a surprise. Alright,” Corrin says, and she shuts her eyes tight.

She hears nothing for a moment, and furrows her brow, wondering if Azura had disappeared; but then she feels Azura’s damp hands on either side of her face, and her heart nearly jumps out of her chest when she can feel the breath from Azura’s lips on her own.

Unthinkingly, Corrin leans forward--

And then suddenly, Azura’s hands grasp the collar of her shirt, and Azura  _ pulls _ , hard.

The next thing Corrin knows is that her face hits the surface of the water.

Her eyes fly open, panic and adrenaline shooting through her body -- Azura’s there, underwater, in front of her, one moment jokingly grinning.

The next second, she isn’t, when Corrin rips Azura’s hands off her collar, Corrin’s entire expression consumed with terror.

Azura. Azura had pulled her into the water.

When Corrin breaks the surface, gasping and choking on air and water at the same time, she flails around, one hand slamming onto the edge of the dock -- Corrin roughly drags herself up, shaking, heart pounding in her chest, the only thing in her mind just  _ sheer _ panic.

“Oh-in--” Azura says, reaching out and the tips of her fingers brushing Corrin’s arm -- but she flinches, hard, when Corrin rips her arm away, the only emotion on her face just pure shock and pain as she whips her head around.

_ “Don’t,”  _ Corrin chokes out, spitting and coughing water on to the dock and crawling down it, grabbing her backpack.  _ “DON’T!” _ she repeats, louder, when Azura tries to reach a hand out again.

When Corrin reaches solid ground again on the shore, thankful for the feel of dirt underneath her feet, and soaking and dripping wet, she’s shaking and trembling all over, her nerves on edge and frayed. 

She could’ve fucking died, right then and there.

_ “I could’ve fucking drowned!” _ Corrin says through gritted teeth, almost shouting, and Azura, at the end of the dock, looks as hurt and afraid as Corrin’s ever seen. “I could’ve fucking died, Azura! I told you, I can’t swim! I can’t go in the water!”

But Azura doesn’t understand. She was never able to.

Corrin turns her gaze away, only clutches her backpack to her chest, for coming that close to death makes looking at the water only like looking straight into hell.

“Oh-in,” Azura whispers, and there are tears in her eyes, but Corrin doesn’t see it, doesn’t even say anything in return.

And Azura, finding no response, stares at Corrin for one moment longer, before turning and diving back into the water.

And Corrin goes home, still shaking, and she doesn’t answer Camilla or Xander or Ryoma or Hinoka when they ask what’d happened to her, did she fall into the lake, was she alright.

She doesn’t say anything, only goes to the bathroom, tearing off her soaked clothes and taking a shower.

\---

For the first time that summer, Corrin doesn’t go anywhere in the morning.

Camilla knocks on her door, and when there’s no answer, she sighs, and simply opens it.

“Corrin, dear,” Camilla says. “Hinoka and I are going out to the town. Did you want to come?”

Corrin shifts underneath the covers of her bed. She knows why Camilla’s asking her to come. Nothing really gets past her big sister, anyway.

“...Yeah. I need a new phone.”

Corrin gets up, grabbing clothes from her closet, and Camilla softly asks, “What happened, Corrin?”

Corrin doesn’t reply, just tugs her shirt over her head.

“It’s with your girl, isn’t it,” Camilla says.

Corrin silently takes her notebook out of her backpack, placing it on her desk. Then she puts the backpack on.

Camilla sighs, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorframe. “Alright, you don’t have to talk about it. Just know I’m here for you if you want to talk. I’ll be outside with Hinoka.”

Camilla turns and leaves, leaving Corrin to stand alone in her room.

Corrin stares at her notebook for a moment.

In her heart, she knows Azura wasn’t able to understand, that what her friend had tried to do was meant to be a playful joke on her part. There’d been plenty of times Azura could’ve dragged her in. And Azura hadn’t.

But the thought of going near water again makes her grit her teeth, clench her fists, stiffen her shoulders.

For the first time that summer, Corrin doesn’t go to meet Azura.

* * *

 

Azura still remembers when she’d met first Corrin, all those weeks ago.

When she’d torn herself free from the net, swimming as fast as she can away from the human and her knife, she’d thought at the time that the human had just been a poor hunter, for who would just let their prey go like that?

She was stupid, of course, to go explore that strange wooden floating shell humans use to get across the lake. But curiosity drove her, as it had so many times before -- and she immediately reprimands herself when she accidentally entangles herself in a mesh of ropes.

But then a human girl had appeared, said things to her in that strange, harsh language of humans. 

And the human had let her go.

Azura learns her lesson about nets, but her curiosity focuses on one human, and one human alone.

Why? Why hadn’t that human killed her, right then and there?

Azura watches, from afar, this strange human girl walk around the lake, sometimes sitting down and she brings things with her, things that Azura doesn’t really understand.

Then there’s one day, one strange day, that the human leaves something behind on the dock. Azura watches, from far away, the girl stand up and leave, going back to her home.

Later that evening, Azura swims close to the dock, cautious and wary, but all she finds is...Azura picks it up, her wet hands warping and weakening the paper, and Azura stares at all the strange black symbols, similar to the ones she sees around the human village nearby.

Curious, Azura dives back underneath the water with the thing, and then immediately realizes her mistake.

Right. Human things are probably meant for dry land, not wet lakes. Oops…

When Azura swims back up to the dock, and puts the strange paper thing back, she notices that it’s definitely not as nice-looking as it was before.

_ Oh, no. She uses this thing a lot too. _

Azura bites her lip. She knows, inherently, that she’d ruined this whatever-thing the human girl uses a lot. But she doesn’t know how to fix it, either.

So she takes one of the nice shells in her collection and puts it with the book. Maybe the human will understand she’s sorry? Maybe?

The next day, in the middle of the night, Azura swims up to the dock, and her eyes widen in surprise.

The human. She’d left something.

Azura rises up to her shoulders by the end of the dock, holding her breath as she stares.

It’s the same paper thing as the book, but it’s thinner, like it’s only one piece. And there’s not symbols on it, there’s…

Azura carefully picks up the edge of the paper with two fingers, making sure not to ruin the gift, and she stares.

_ It’s...the lake. It’s the forest _ . The human had somehow...made the lake and the forest appear on this paper.

Then Azura thinks back, remembers seeing the human with another, larger, paper thing, how she’d gripped a stick in her hand and had drawn it across the surface.

Azura delicately puts the paper back down, and she swims around the dock, full of excitement and energy. The human had made her something. Maybe she can give something back.

And so, their exchange began, and Azura finds herself enjoying the game, seeing what other new things the human girl can come up with. She’s a tad disappointed when the human doesn’t seem to understand that she’d gone through all this trouble of finding the best kelp and putting it at the end of the dock, but maybe that’s something the human can learn about later. She’s amused when the human leaves behind that metal pronged tiny weapon thing that humans use to eat, so she leaves behind a joke gift in return, too.

Azura takes a chance, one day. The human seems friendly...maybe…

The second time she meets Corrin, Azura’s cautious, wary, of course. But she notices that the human has no weapons, and...the human had kept the pearly rock.

_ She...kept one of my gifts. _

That surprises Azura the most. She hadn’t thought that the human would be so thoughtful.

But her human friend is thoughtful in more ways than one. And Azura comes to learn her friend’s name -- Corrin, albeit, that’s the human way of saying it. Azura likes the softer, siren translation, for ‘ohin’ is gentle and kind and sweet, an accurate sound that encompasses everything this human girl is.

She also finds that Corrin is amusing, what with her offkey singing and peppy grin. 

And Azura looks forward to meeting her friend everyday, to learning more about the human world, to seeing Corrin create dazzling things and people on that blank piece of paper. And she loves it, loves it so, so much, when Corrin somehow makes it possible for Azura to bring her drawings into the water without destroying them. It’s a bridge across their worlds, this human ingenuity somehow able to create something waterproof, and Azura finds that being close to Corrin brings her a bit of joy each day.

Azura learns so much, sees so much that she never thought she’d be able to see or hear or learn -- Corrin expands her horizons about the land above, showing her to a world so close yet so far.

But everytime Azura tries to get Corrin to come into the water, Corrin shakes her head, and Azura doesn’t understand why.

So when the day comes and Azura tries to show Corrin the water, how nice it is, how much better it is than being on land where everything’s dirty and dry, everything seems to go wrong at once.

Frightened, angry. She’d never seen Corrin look like that before. Terrified. Afraid. Of  _ her. _

For the first time, Corrin shouts at her, harsh staccato words that make Azura wince and that grind against her ears. Azura doesn’t know what to do, because Corrin won’t talk to her, won’t even look at her, and she dives back into the water.

And that night, when she thinks of everything they’ve been through together, recalls every happy memory with her friend, she hopes that Corrin knows enough about her to know that she’s sorry.

\---

The next day, Azura makes her way back to their dock, but when she surfaces, she sees no one.

There’s a deep, aching pain in the center of her chest, where her heart is, and she places a hand over it, as she gazes at the empty spot where Corrin always sits.

Azura doesn’t understand. She was never able to.

She knew humans could swim. She’d seen a few do it before.

And all she’d wanted was to show Corrin her world beneath the water, for Corrin had showed her so much of the human world.

But how could she explain that? Corrin doesn’t understand song, and can’t hear her emotions or her thoughts as perfectly as other sirens did.

Azura waits the entire day. She waits, and waits, and waits, and she jerks her head around in hope when she hears a rustle of bushes -- but instead it’s just a squirrel, darting away.

Her hopes are crushed, and her heart hurts.

Azura waits, waits, waits more, until the sun sets beneath the tree tops and the sky turns dark.

But her friend never appears.

\---

Azura comes back the next day, hoping beyond hope that Corrin will appear this time, because this time Azura’s brought with her the most beautiful shell she has in her collection -- a smooth, glistening blue conch shell, a trophy Azura had kept with her since she was a child and she’d found it in the depths of the lake.

Corrin had understood her apology when she’d accidentally ruined her book.

Maybe, Azura thinks, with the shell, Corrin will understand again.

Corrin has to understand.  _ That I’d never hurt her. _

Azura places it at the end of the dock, and then waits again.

And she waits.

And waits.

The ache in her heart only grows, and there are tears in her eyes when the sun dips below the treetops.

“Oh-in,” Azura whispers, and her voice cracks.  _ Please. Come back. _

\---

She knows. Humans are better suited for the dirt, and land. She knows that.

But she’d forgotten, in all of Corrin’s kindness and sweet grin and funny laugh and generous gifts, that their people had used to be enemies.

But it’d felt different with Corrin. She’d felt a closeness with her human counterpart, different from anything she’d ever felt before for anyone.

And now her heart suffers for it.

The next day, she goes back to the original dock that she’d found Corrin’s book on, and she places the shell and puts beneath it, the drawing of the both of them that Corrin had made for her, so long ago.

Then she swims a ways away, far enough that she can watch the dock, but not close enough that anyone would be able to see her.

This dock is closer to Corrin’s house, Azura knows that much. Maybe Corrin will come here.

Azura waits. Anxiety gnaws at the back of her gut when no one appears.

She decides to leave the shell and the drawing there for the night. Maybe Corrin will see it in the morning. It’ll be like before, at the beginning, when they were still getting to know each other. Maybe Corrin will leave something in return.

\---

When she comes back the next day, the shell and drawing haven’t moved a single inch. And there’s nothing else there.

Azura’s hands grip the edge of the dock, her knuckles pale white against her skin as she clenches her fingers, hard, on the wood.

She roughly grabs both things in her hands and dives back into the water, trying so, so hard not to cry, trying so, so hard, not to feel how her heart breaks inside her chest, fracturing and coming apart.

_ Corrin. _

And then Azura understands, as she swims deeper, why Corrin no longer wished to see her.

She remembers what her mother had told her. Humans hunted sirens...but sirens killed humans too. 

Her ancestors had lured unwitting sailors to the depths of the waters, men who wanted to find the embrace of a beautiful mermaid, only to find the kiss of death awaiting them down below.

Azura’s hands tremble as she looks at the drawing of the both of them, happy and carefree and  _ together. _

And she’d ruined it all. Corrin would believe forever that Azura had tried to kill her.

\---

An entire week passes. Azura swims, in vain, to her and Corrin’s meeting places each morning, and each evening, she leaves with nothing but worry and disappointment and heartbreak.

She needed Corrin to know that she’d never meant to hurt her. That one thought alone drove her forward each day. If she could just see Corrin one more time, and explain, somehow, and if Corrin never wanted to see her again, she would accept that -- even if that thought tore her to pieces. But she had to let Corrin know. She had to.

_ I have to find her. I have to. She has to know I’d never try and...!  _

But how to find a human who walked only on land?

Azura bites her lip, gazing up at the surface. 

Corrin had drawn her many things, taught her many things. Humans like to stick together. And Azura knows about the little human settlement nearby. 

Maybe Corrin will be there. She can find Corrin and she can apologize and they can go back to how things were before. She can see Corrin be happy again.

\---

She’s wrong. She’s very, very wrong.

It’s not Corrin who finds her wandering near the docks by the village, where Azura goes and pokes her eyes above the water to try and glimpse that telltale sign of silver hair; it’s a man who finds her, and Azura gasps when the net flies over her.

But this time, there’s no Corrin to save her.

Tangled up against the ropes, Azura struggles with every piece of strength in her body, but it isn’t enough, she can’t fight back against three men. They’re shouting, loud and harsh sounds against her ears, and Azura cries out when they drag her out of the water and onto the deck of those strange, strange, shells that humans use to float across the water.

Azura fights with everything she has, doing anything she can to jump off and back into the water, but entrapped in the net, they pull her back in, easily.

They bind her arms, and gag her, too.

It’s humiliating.

When she struggles, tail thrashing against her binds, one of the men pokes the end of her fin with a metal pointy stick -- and she knows this weapon, this thing that’s supposedly killed many of her ancestors. It cuts, and red blossoms amongst her blue scales.

This is the price she pays for her stupidity. 

And as the men roughly toss her into a cage, Azura pulls in on herself, crippled with pain.

_ Maybe Corrin told them about me, that I almost drowned her. And now the other humans want to kill me too. _

Everything hurts, but nothing hurts more than how the fractured fragments of her heart feel inside her chest.

* * *

 

Corrin wakes up one morning, sighing. Summer vacation ends in a week, and she still hadn’t gone to see Azura.

_ I guess I should...tell her goodbye, or something. _

Corrin packs up her things, then slowly makes her walk down to the inlet, their little secret place. When she sees the water, she tenses a little, but nonetheless makes her way forward. She can’t be afraid forever.

When she enters the shaded area of the dock, she sees a few things sitting at the end of it.

Lowering herself onto her haunches, Corrin looks over the gifts Azura had left behind. A beautiful shell, some more radiant and pearly rocks, and Corrin’s heart twinges in her chest when she sees the first drawing she’d ever done of the two of them.

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. When she looks up, she expects to see Azura -- but instead, all she sees is the calm surface of the water, tranquil and still.

Frowning, Corrin stands up, squinting into the distance towards the main body of the lake.

Nothing.

“Azura?” Corrin calls.

No response.

Taking a deep breath, Corrin sings, “Aaaauuuaaaa! I’m going hoooooome!”

No reply.

Then her phone vibrates in her pocket, and Corrin’s brow furrows as she sees a message from Leo.

When she reads it, her blood runs cold. Then her heart stops.

The villagers. They’d found a mermaid, after a century. And they’d captured her.

\---

She’s never ran so fast in her life. 

She sees Leo, Takumi, Elise, and Sakura, all next to the old man from before; except this time, the old man’s spinning a real tale, not lying as he describes how a few fishermen had captured a beautiful, gorgeous mermaid and saved the village from destruction.

The old man looks up when Corrin skids to a halt in front of them, gasping, panting, hands on her knees. Her siblings all glance at her in surprise, but Corrin doesn’t give them a chance to say anything.

_ “Where’s the mermaid?” _ Corrin asks, fear in her voice.

“Well, well, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” The old man chuckles. 

“I’m serious, old man! Where’s the fucking mermaid?!”

Her tone makes the old man scowl at her, and he waves his old walking stick. “Look here, kiddo, you shouldn’t get close to ‘em. They’ll make you trust them and then they’ll drown you and eat you, that’s what my old grandfather’s father said in his journals.”

Corrin wants so badly to shout that she doesn’t give one flying fuck about what that old man’s grandasshole used to say, but she grits her teeth and clenches her fist.

“Corrin, calm down,” Leo says, placing a hand on her shoulder, but Corrin brushes it off, glaring at the old man.

“Where’d they put her?”

The old man gives her a beady look, then shakes his head. “I can’t let you hurt yourself, kid. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

Corrin doesn’t care, of course. She sprints to the docks, maybe she can find the fisherman who captured Azura, maybe she can ask him--

Instead she finds some kind of bullshit patrol perimeter around a part of the main dock, all guarding what appears to be a row of boathouses.

A man holds up his hand to stop Corrin from going further. “Hey, little lady, this place is off-limits. We got one of ‘em sirens, and they’re mighty dangerous.”

Azura is by far the least dangerous thing within a fifty mile radius, but Corrin doesn’t say that. If she could just find out which damn boathouse Azura was in…

Not caring anymore for what the people thought of her, she shouts and half-sings, “Aaauuuuaaaaaaa! Azura!”

The guard in front of her looks at her like she’s crazy. “What the hell are you yellin’ for, girl?”

“Can you just, like, shut up for a second?” Corrin asks, and the man’s mouth clamps shut, either from surprise or something else, she doesn’t care.

Because she hears it. She hears Azura.

It’s so faint, it’s quiet, but Corrin knows which boathouse it is, now.

“ _ Oooh-inn…” _

Then Corrin politely makes an excuse to leave, leaving behind the baffled guard and hurries back to Elise, Sakura, Takumi and Leo. Somewhere, in that boathouse, Azura’s trapped and alone and Corrin has to find her.

She drags the four siblings away from the old man, and when they all stand in an alleyway, Takumi crosses his arms. “Alright, what’s up sis?”

“I need you guys to help me steal a boat,” Corrin says.

“Do you even know how to work one?” Leo asks.

“Ooh! Ooh! I wanna steal boats!” Elise says, clapping her hands in cheer.

“I thought it was illegal to steal from people,” Sakura says timidly.

“What if you fall off? You can’t swim,” Takumi adds.

“Look, I don’t have time to explain. I’ll do all of you guys’ chores for the next like, five months, just help me steal a boat!”

It takes some ingenuity, but they end up pulling the ‘oh no, my little sister is dying’ card on a very oblivious and gullible fisherman with a small wooden boat with paddles. He runs to Elise rolling around on the ground, the little girl fake sobbing and throwing her hand on her forehead and crying out, “Oh no, this is it, this is the end of my life, I’m too young to die,” while Leo, Takumi, and Sakura all feign worry and fear and mumble prayers to some forgotten god.

In all the commotion, Corrin hops into the wooden boat, straightens out the oars, and begins to row away.

Thankfully, the men had only set up a guard perimeter on land -- they had no one watching on the water.

She rows the boat into an elegant boathouse, with high walls and glass windows at the top that let the daylight angle in. But its beauty grows ugly when sees the cage they’d kept Azura in, and tears come to Corrin’s eyes as she scrambles out of the boat and onto small dock inside.

They’d placed the cage tantalizingly near the water, cruelly showing Azura where she belonged but depriving her of it with the metal bars of a large, heavy, metal cage.

“Azura, Azura, I’m so sorry,” Corrin says, her heart breaking in her chest as she looks at Azura’s forlorn form; the siren is trembling, weak, and when she looks up at Corrin, her golden eyes are dull, and she can barely find the strength to whisper Corrin’s name.

Corrin sees that Azura had managed to loosen the gag around her mouth, for the cloth hung limp around her neck; Corrin reaches in to undo the bindings around Azura’s wrists, freeing her, but guilt twists in her gut and shame stabs her chest.

_ Oh no, oh no. She went looking for me. And this happened to her, because of me. _

_ She trusted me and all she got in return was this. _

“I’m gonna get you out,” Corrin says, because she knows she doesn’t have much time, and she runs a hand through her hair, trying to calm her nerves. “I’m gonna get you out, don’t worry--”

Azura only stares back at her, unmoving, not saying a word.

But that’s easier said than done, because the door to the cage is padlocked shut, and there’s nothing around her that can break it. She thinks, stupidly, of trying to push the cage into the water, but no, Azura still wouldn’t be able to escape it, so maybe if she uses one of the oars of the boat, she can try and break the lock by force--?

Where the end boathouse meets land, Corrin sees a door, and her heart stops when she sees the door open.

_ “Hey! What the hell are you doing?!” _ A squad of men suddenly rush into the boathouse, and Corrin, out of ideas, frantically tries to pull at the damn padlock in a futile effort to somehow twist it off the cage--

“Let go of me!  _ Let go of me!” _ Corrin cries out as one man abruptly wraps his arms around her, trapping Corrin’s arms to her sides and she tries to kick out at the rest of the men, who only dodge her as the man holding her begins to drag her away from Azura. Corrin feels legitimate fear again, when she sees that each of the men hold weapons -- crowbars, bats,  _ a harpoon. _

And Azura watches all of this, anguish twisting her beautiful face as Corrin tries to fight her would-be captors.

_ “Oh-in!” _ Azura cries out, and she mimes putting her hands over her ears, and Corrin grits her teeth and throws her head back, breaking the nose of the man holding her and he drops her to the ground; without hesitation, Corrin slams her hands over her own ears, meeting Azura’s eye.

And then Azura screams.

It’s a noise that shakes to the very core of Corrin’s body, a terrifying screech that tears through the air and shatters the glass windows -- all the men suddenly cry out in agony, each of them falling to their knees, clapping hands over their own ears but it’s too late, and Corrin watches each of them slump unconscious on the ground, blood trickling from their ears.

Corrin shakily removes her own hands, and she can barely stand; she staggers as she tries to get up, her vision blurring and the loud ringing in her ears almost making her deaf.

She grabs one of the men’s harpoons, stumbling as she makes her way back to Azura, for the adrenaline rush caused by Azura’s scream makes her body tremble.

It takes her a second of looking at Azura to realize that Azura doesn’t look quite the same.

And now, Corrin understands, why people called sirens monsters.

Azura’s hands had somehow sharpened into claws, the ribbed skeleton of her fins had sharpened out into lethal spikes, and two little fangs poke out over her bottom lip.

But nonetheless, Corrin sees that Azura trembles, how her friend’s gaze doesn’t dare leave her own.

And Corrin sees fear and desperation in those golden eyes.

_ The only monsters here... _ Corrin looks at the unconscious bodies behind her.

“I’m,” Corrin says, wincing, losing her balance and falling against the cage. “I’m gonna get you out, I promise.”

Azura says nothing, only watches as Corrin grits her teeth and pulls herself up, focusing every ounce of strength she had in the harpoon, and she thrusts it down at the lock -- it cuts, cleanly, and Corrin throws the harpoon away and curses her shaking hands as she pulls the pieces of the padlock away from the door.

When she throws it open, Corrin points at the water, her face screwed up with so many different emotions, but she says with tears in her eyes, “Go, Azura!  _ Go!” _

But Azura doesn’t move, only stares at Corrin, and despite all the bizarre features of her transformation, Azura looks small and forlorn.

“Azura, what are you waiting for?! Go!”

The flicker of Azura’s tail catches Corrin’s eye, and she gasps when she sees the bloodied cut.  _ Those sons of bitches, they fucking-- _

“Okay, okay, don’t worry,” Corrin says, and she instead enters the fish cage -- that’s when Azura pulls away a little, balling her hands into fists as she stares at Corrin. 

“Azura, please,” Corrin says desperately, her voice hoarse -- she understands why Azura would pull away from her, she’s just another human that might hurt her --  _ did hurt her _ \-- but Corrin moves forward anyway.

When she picks Azura up in her arms, she’s surprised when Azura doesn’t struggle, only stiffens, her clawed hands balled up into fists on her chest.

It’s not that Azura’s afraid of Corrin. It’s that Azura believes that Corrin’s afraid of  _ her. _

But Corrin doesn’t have time to think on that. She has to save Azura. She has to.

She carries Azura, bridal-style, out of the cage and jogs towards the boat, all the while casting glances at the door entrance of the boathouse, praying to any god that no one else will appear. The scream was sure to attract reinforcements, and Corrin didn’t want to stick around for when that would happen.

Placing Azura as carefully as she can in the boat and making sure not to do any more damage to Azura’s tail, Corrin takes her seat at the front, grabbing the oars and gritting her teeth as she rows out of the boathouse.

And Azura only stares at her the entire time, her face drawn, exhaustion lining the thinness of her lips, the worry in her eyes.

Corrin rows as fast she can, her arms burning, but she knows if she fails here, Azura dies.

She sees, across some other docks in the distance, men hurrying into boats of their own, pointing at her.  _ Shit. _

She rows faster.

And Azura only watches, pulling in on herself at the other end of the small boat, but her gaze never leaves Corrin’s face.

But Corrin only has so much stamina, and a sob breaks free of her chest when she realizes she can’t go much farther; she’d made a good amount of distance into the lake, of course, but she can’t out-row a whole squadron of men and their boats.

“Azura,” Corrin says, and she points aggressively at the water. “You need to go. You need to go back into the water!”

And yet, her friend says nothing, glancing from the water and then back to Corrin -- and then she gives a miniscule shake of her head.

“Wh-what do you mean,  _ no?” _ Corrin asks, desperate and uncomprehending. “You! You need to go! They’re coming for you and they’re gonna hurt you,” Corrin says, and her voice is hoarse and raw with emotion as she gestures ever more aggressively at the water and Azura.

“You need to go, you need to go far away, and never come back or else they’ll hurt you,” Corrin says, and now there’s a stinging burn at the corners of her eyes.

Azura opens her mouth, as if to say something, but nothing comes out, and she only looks at Corrin, pain in her eyes.

They can’t waste more time, and Corrin, driven to the depths of despair, reaches out and grabs Azura’s hands in her own, the tears flowing freely down her face. _“Please, Azura!_ _Go!”_

If Azura can’t understand her goddamn words, Corrin prays that she would at least understand what Corrin wanted most of all -- for Azura to be free and happy and without the worry of humans hunting her.

Her sobs end up breaking up her words, but Corrin tries to sing, tries to put the word ‘go’ in a note; and Azura’s hands tighten around her own, her friend’s face close to her own, anguish and sadness in her own features.

Azura tugs at Corrin’s hands, looking at the water, then back to Corrin, tears in her own eyes, and Corrin understands.

“I can’t,” Corrin says, shaking her head. “I can’t go with you. It has to be you, you have to go!”

Azura stares at her for a moment longer, and then she looks back, to where the rest of the men are catching up; then she looks back at Corrin, and leans her forehead, briefly, against Corrin’s.

And Corrin feels both relief and heartbreak when Azura pulls away and grips the edge of the boat in her hands as she ungracefully dunks back into the water with a large splash.

Shaking with exertion and disbelief, Corrin leans back on her seat, and awaits the rest of the hunters coming for her.

Azura’s free. She’d done it. She’d saved her.

She jolts in surprise when she feels a wet hand around her wrist, and Corrin’s breath catches in her throat when she leans over the side to see Azura next to the boat, looking up at her.

There’s still fear and sadness in her eyes, but her grip on Corrin’s arm is firm.

Corrin doesn’t dare move, only stares back at Azura.

And then Azura rises out of the water, one hand reaching up to cup Corrin’s cheek -- and she leaves a brief, light kiss on Corrin’s lips.

Overwhelmed with emotion and her brain short-circuiting, Corrin can only stare in disbelief; when she blinks, Azura disappears back into the water, the only sign that she’d ever been there only a wisp of blood trailing up and floating to the surface.

“Bye,” Corrin whispers, and she has no reply.

\---

She gets into a shitton of trouble with the rudimentary government of the village, the town council all arguing about how she should be punished for releasing a supposed murder machine back into the wild, but then Xander thankfully comes in with his booming voice and commanding aura to lecture them all in the word of just law; they can’t arrest Corrin over a supposed mythical, non-existent creature, and no one has proof that this ‘mermaid’ ever existed anyway -- so in the eyes of the court, Xander says, pulling himself up to his full height, with no evidence, you cannot convict Corrin of anything.

And that’s the end of their summer vacation; Corrin doesn’t have any time to try and see Azura again until it’s the last day.

She packs her stuff in the car, and looks back out to the lake -- Camilla nudges her.

“Hey, go out there. Go say goodbye,” Camilla says.

Corrin had finally told the rest of her family why she’d done what she’d done, what she’d been doing during the summer, about her new friend. They all nodded in understanding, and Elise in particular puffed her chest out in pride that she’d been part of the rescue mission to save the beloved siren of the lake.

Corrin gives Camilla a hug of thanks, and then grabs her backpack and tears off for the dock near the house. When she gets there, she takes out the ruined book, from all those months ago, and places it at the end of the dock.

She hopes Azura will understand what it means, that she’s leaving for a while.

She stands there for a few minutes, watching, waiting, and hoping, but nothing -- and no one -- appears.

Unable to delay any longer and hearing Ryoma calling her name, Corrin heads back and gets inside the car next to Takumi, disappointment in her heart, but understanding too. After everything that’d happened...Corrin knew why Azura might not want to come and see her again.

When she rolls down the window halfway, though, she hears it.

It’s faint, and small, but she hears Azura.

_ “Oohin…” _

Without thinking, she throws open the door, ignoring Ryoma’s startled cry of surprise, and tears off down to the dock.

But the book is still there, and Corrin falls to her knees next to it, and she almost kicks herself for making up sounds that aren’t real, but when she picks up the book, something falls out of it.

Corrin stares.

It’s a small piece of wood, but Corrin sees light carvings etched into it. Bizarrely, there’s something looks human and something that looks fish-like next to each other, and then some other strange scribbles she can’t really understand, but she understands well enough.

Corrin places the slab of wood close to her chest, and looks out over the water.

“Azura,” Corrin whispers.

_ Azura’s alive. And she’s still out there. _

She waits a little longer, ignoring her family for a bit, and then she goes back to join Ryoma and the others, a spring in her step, her heart light and full with joy.

As they drive off down the road and leave behind that godforsaken town and the beautiful lake, Corrin rolls the window all the way down, and feels the  last of the summer wind blow through her hair.

She would see Azura again someday, she knew it.

And she would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiny epilogue lmao that ticcy told me about too so here's this very tiny epilogue lmao
> 
> at least they're together!!! and i finished this tiny portion before mermay ended !!! heLL YEAH

The next summer, Corrin drives herself up to the lakehouse the second she’s free from school, taking the family car (with the permission of her mom, of course) and makes her way through the long winding roads through valleys and forests and fields on her own. She has to resist trying to floor it, because she’s not brave enough to go a hundred miles per hour around sharp curves, but she wants to get there as fast as possible so she can see Azura once more.

In the past year, Xander used his talents in law and his connections in the government to pull some strings, outright banning the hunting of ‘endangered waterlife species,’ or however Xander said it in that formal voice of his. Either way, all Corrin needed to know was that Azura would be safe from the fishermen of that town forever more.

She hits the brakes, hard, after skidding into the driveway of the lakehouse; throwing open the car door and shoving the car keys into her pocket, Corrin runs as fast as she can down to the docks near the house.

So close. So close to seeing Azura again.

She stands at the end of the dock, cups her hands close to her mouth, and shouts with every fiber of her being,  _ “AZUUURRRAAAA!” _

As she gasps for breath, she waits, her eyes intently scanning the surface of the water for  _ anything _ , just as she did a year ago. Minutes pass, and she sees only the unbroken cascades of ripples of the water in the distance. Hope in her heart keeps her there, and something akin to  _ love _ keeps her there too.

And her prayers are answered when, fifty paces away, she sees a pair of golden eyes surface above the water, uncertain and afraid and surprised all at once as the siren stares back at her friend from long ago.

“Oh-in?” comes Azura’s small voice.

Elation fills Corrin’s heart, and a wide grin bursts onto Corrin’s face. “Azura! It’s me!”

And then, Corrin leaps from the dock, pulling her knees up to her chest as she does a cannonball into the water.

Azura’s expression goes from perplexed to downright terror in a split second, and she swims as fast as she can to reach Corrin -- when she wraps her arms around Corrin’s torso, frantically trying to pull her friend back to the shore, back to land, she feels confusion when Corrin  _ laughs. _

“Azura! I can swim! Look! I learned how to! You can let go--”

But Azura can’t understand, and she manages to get Corrin into shallow waters, bodily pushing her friend to where Corrin can stand; but Azura feels only another surge of bewilderment when Corrin giggles again, happiness written clear across her face as she does a little swim around Azura.

“See? I can swim! I learned how!”

The fright that had jumpstarted Azura’s heart to pound wildly in her chest changes to disbelief, for Corrin was not only  _ here _ with her, but Corrin was  _ swimming. _ And then Azura understands why Corrin had jumped straight into the water, why her friend was  _ laughing _ at her shocked expression.

Corrin treads water next to her, grinning with her hair and clothes all soaked, but joyful nonetheless, for the two were together again. “See? I can stay with you now! I’m all good! You don’t need to be scared, Azura!”

Azura scowls at her, crosses her arms, and then dives back underneath the water -- leaving Corrin bewildered and alone for a second as she moves a little to stand in the shallow waters, unable to understand why Azura might be angry --

And then a large splash comes from the end of Azura’s tail, washing over Corrin and she sputters in indignation. “O-okay! S-sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you--”

But all is forgiven a moment later, for Azura surfaces right in front of Corrin, her two hands grabbing onto the collar of Corrin’s shirt and then Azura pulls her in close.

The kiss is wet, of course, and it catches Corrin off guard as she gives a muffled  _ hmph _ in surprise, but a second later she’s kissing Azura back.

When they break apart, both a little breathless, Azura moves her hands up to cup Corrin’s face, and her breath is cool against Corrin’s lips as she whispers,  _ “Oh-in.” _ Relief and longing rest in that one word, along with the emotion that comes from missing someone loved most dearly. Stroking her thumb against Corrin’s cheek, Azura gazes into Corrin’s eyes, trying to convey everything she’s wanted to say since the last time they were together.

And even with the barrier of languages, the separation of time, the differences in who they are -- Corrin understands it all, because love needs no words, makes the heart grow only fonder in absence of the other, shares a common feeling across all peoples.

So she kisses Azura again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone: what happens after this??  
> me: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ uuhu h??? uuh h? ? huhhu,, , huh??yy h????
> 
> i mean jk lmao i have my own personal thoughts on what they do and ticcy told me some ideas too that i like a lot but i just don't think i have the capability rn to compile all of the ideas together b/c then that'd just end up being ANOTHER story on its own which i think it'd be cool to do a sequel to this eventually lmao

**Author's Note:**

> eventually i'll write an epilogue for this when i'm not dying lmao but i hope u guys enjoyed this!! ticcy's a very good storyteller so translating her ideas into fic wasn't super difficult !! 
> 
> anyway thanks for reading and supporting !! i really appreciate you all who still like azurrin too lol especially f!azurrin bc they're my OTP...
> 
> if any y'all ask : why are both families together  
> me: lmao,,, idk,,, uhh,,, i have no background or reason why theY JUST ARE


End file.
